


Restoring the Tapestry

by EmerySaks7



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jean-Luc Picard almost dies after a peacekeeping mission goes awry, Beverly Crusher is forced to confront her feelings for him. Set directly after the events in the sixth-season episode, "Tapesty." INCOMPLETE. No plans to update.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restoring the Tapestry

**Author's Note:**

> _This was written in 1998. I found it while going through my older writings, and I thought I'd post it for posterity._

_Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the toys, characters, and patented technobabble. I'm just playing with them for my enjoyment._

This takes place after the Sixth season episode "Tapestry" in which Picard dies and is given a chance to correct his life by Q. The timeline veers off from the canon of the series. 

"Beverly?"

Beverly Crusher looked up to see Counselor Deanna Troi standing in her office doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"What?" she asked, and then added, "I'm fine."

Deanna regarded her with a skeptical look.

"Really, Deanna, I am. I'm just tired."

"How is the Captain?"

"Stable. He's sleeping right now. I thought it best to let him do so and wake up on his on. Lord knows I won't be able to keep him here once he regains consciousness. At least not without a fight," she laughed.

Deanna smiled at that. "Yes, well, that's our Captain. Strong willed."

"Stubborn fool is more like it," she remarked, rolling her eyes, "But you didn't hear that from me."

"Hear what?"

"Exactly."

They both laughed, enjoying a moment's relief from the stress of the past several hours.

"So, how are you holding up?"

"Good. Tired, but that's to be expected. I've just spent the last seven hours in surgery."

"I realize that and again I ask, how are you holding up – truthfully?" Deanna pressed, regarding her with a serious gaze. Beverly's eyes dropped to the floor, while her hands traced an invisible pattern on the desktop. She was silent for a moment, and then, in a quiet whisper, "I … I almost lost him, Deanna."

Troi waited.

"He was right there, on my operating table, and I almost lost him."

"Talk to me Beverly. Tell me everything."

"It was supposed to be a routine negotiation. Go down, settle the dispute, come home. We even joked over breakfast how he could use a little more excitement in his life," she sighed. "We finished breakfast and made plans for dinner. He even walked me to sickbay."

"Isn't that unusual?" Deanna asked, shifting her stance.

A wistful smile crossed Beverly's face. "It's been occurring more and more often recently."

"I see."

Beverly threw her a sharp look. "Deanna …"

"What?" she asked innocently. "All I said was I see."

"Yes, but it's what you didn't say."

Deanna gave her an amused stare. "I just find it interesting, that's all."

Beverly sighed and decided to let it go. Continuing, she took a deep breath. "I was here, in my office, when the call came. All I was told was that there had been a trauma - severe cardiac shock." She closed her eyes. "When they materialized and I saw Jean-Luc in Worf's arms, convulsing … I … I almost lost it right there –" she broke off, biting her lower lip.

"It's all right, Beverly. Just take a deep breath."

She nodded, taking a moment to regain her voice. "After that, my _clinical detachment_ kicked in. I remember giving the order and performing the surgery, but it's like it wasn't me. I watched this person from the outside … watched her make the decisions. I didn't even want to think about it. I just knew that I had to keep him alive," she finished, lowering her face to her hands.

"Beverly, I realize this has been hard for you. No one is disputing that, but it's over. He's going to make it. Thanks solely to you, he's alive."

"I know. I know. I should be overjoyed, but –"

"Beverly, you're allowed to feel this way. You were faced with the possibility of losing a man you …" she paused, searching for the right word.

"Love," Beverly sighed, completing the sentence.

Deanna gazed at her, taking in this bit of information. She had known for quite sometime how Jean-Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher felt about one another, but not once had she heard either one of them voice their true feeling aloud.

"Deanna Troi speechless. Now there's a day I never thought I'd see," Beverly laughed softly.

Deanna smiled at her. "No, it's just that I … well, let's just say that I'm surprised to hear you say that … aloud."

Beverly gave her a cynical smile. "You and I both. But, then again, this whole experience has really caused me to do some serious soul searching. All I could think about during the surgery was 'I never told him. He'll never know how I felt.' I realized what a fool I'd been." Shifting her gaze, her eyes came to rest on his sleeping form. "I made a promise to myself during the surgery."

"Which was?"

"That if he came through, I'd tell him. Everything. No more secrets. No more waiting."

"And are you?"

She laughed, nervously. "I don't know. Half of me is saying go to him, tell him how you feel."

"And the other half?"

"Run away as fast as you can," she finished, a small laugh filling her office.

"Well, you know what I think," Deanna said, rising from her chair. "I have to go. I have an appointment in ten minutes."

"Thanks for dropping by, Deanna. I needed this."

"Anytime, Beverly." She headed out the door and then stopped. "And Beverly?"

"Yes?"

"Tell him."

xxx

It was bright, but not like it had been. Not like with Q. Gradually, he began to open his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light. And then, there, right in his line of vision, stood the most beautiful sight he could ever imagine waking up to. Beverly. She stood, smiling down at him, her blue eyes gazing tenderly into their hazel counterparts.

"Beverly," he rasped, reaching out a hand.

"I'm right here, Jean-Luc," she answered, taking it within her own. "Do you remember anything at all?"

He cast his thoughts back to the conference. There had been an argument, shouting had ensued. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, an energy disruption.

"A disruptor," he whispered. "I was hit by an energy burst."

She nodded. "It caused your heart to malfunction. You were in surgery for five hours, but you're going to be okay," she assured him, squeezing his hand.

"I want to discuss this in greater depth, Beverly." He spoke with great difficulty, trying to ward off the sleep which was threatening to overtake him. "I have something very important to tell you."

"As do I. But, later. We'll talk later. You need to rest." She turned to go and then stopped when he didn't release her hand. "Jean-Luc?"

He motioned for her to come closer. She did so, leaning down in front of him, her face inches away.

"You didn't let me say thank you," he told her with a weak smile.

She returned the smile in full. "You're quite welcome."

He lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek, bringing her to him. Slowly, he brought his lips to hers, giving her the softest of kisses. Releasing her, he let his head fall back o the pillow, his eyes drifting shut. "Thank you, Beverly."

She watched him, a finger resting where his lips had been only moments earlier. She whispered her reply. "You're welcome … love."

xxx

Will Riker couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed as his Captain related the strange incident he had just been through. Coming to terms was one thing, but coming to terms with the fact that Q had, in all appearances, helped his nemesis. He was just about to comment more when the Observation Lounge doors swooshed open. Both men looked up to Beverly striding in, holding a PADD. Seeing them sitting there, she stopped.

"I'm sorry. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Will rose. "Not at all, Beverly. I was just leaving." Giving her a broad smile, he turned and exited through the doors.

"Something I can do for you, Doctor?"

"Actually, Jean-Luc," she replied, sitting in her customary chair to the left of him, "I came to check on you."

"Me," he asked, the surprise evident in his voice.

"Yes, you," she repeated. "And don't give me that look," she warned. "You've only been out of Sickbay for a few days, and with all the activity that's been going on, I doubt you've been resting like you were instructed to." As if to emphasize her point, she raised her hand and traced the dark circles under his eyes. "See," she glared at him accusingly.

Picard generally knew when he'd been beat, and he was definitely beaten this time.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted. A weary smile crossed his face. "But, now that you're here, I'm sure I'll be confined to my quarters and ordered to get some rest."

"It's a thought."

"Beverly –"

"Don't _Beverly me_ , Jean-Luc. You need your rest."

He sighed and began massaging his temples.

"But," she continued, "you also need food. Which brings me to why I'm here."

He looked up at that and watched as she propped her elbow on the table and placed her hand under her chin.

"Care to join the Doctor for some dinner before she confines to quarters?"

He couldn't help but smile at that. "A last meal sort of thing, eh?"

"Something like that," she laughed.

"And it has to be with the Doctor?"

"Has to be!" Her voice took on a playful note of hurt. "I should think you'd see it a privilege to dine with the CMO of the flagship."

"I'd rather not," he replied in seriousness, the playful air dropping from his demeanor.

"Oh." She stood. "Well, I'm sorry. I'll just be –"

"What I would like," he interrupted, taking hold of her hand, "is to have dinner with the beautiful Beverly Crusher. Tell the Doctor to stay home."

"I think that can be arranged," she agreed softly, a shy smile coming to her face.

"Good. Do you think the Doctor can persuade her to wear the Captain's favorite outfit?"

Her eyebrow lifted. "And which one would that be?"

"The blue sweater."

"Only if the Captain agrees to wear her favorite."

His gaze lingered on her. "That being?"

"His dark green shirt with the tan trousers."

"I think that ca be arranged," he nodded.

"Excellent. Then, I'll see you at 2000 hours?"

"No, better make it 8:00," he corrected, a sly smile creeping into his features.

"Of course," she laughed. "8pm." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. "See you tonight."

"Yes, tonight."

He let his eyes follow her out the door and indulged himself in the rare luxury of watching her - taking in her fiery red hair, her curves, the long graceful legs of a dancer. She was, in a word, beautiful. So very beautiful. He loved her. He knew it was love. And he was going to tell her. Tonight. No more regrets. No more wasted time. Q had shown him that.

Breathing in, he headed to the Bridge, checking the chronometer on the way. 0900. Eleven more hours. He sighed. It was going to be a long shift.

xxx

"Hi, Jean-Luc. My don't you look handsome tonight. Are you hungry? No, that won't do." The mirror reflected her image as she rolled her eyes. Adjusting her sweater so that it fell to reveal the creamy skin of her shoulder, she tried again.

"Jean-Luc, you look dashing. Ready to eat?" She groaned. "That's even worse than the other one."

"Jean-Luc, you look wonderful. Let's have sex," she laughed at herself, her reflection shaking as her red hair tumbled down around her shoulders. "Brief and to the point, but somehow, I don't think he'll go for that. Too bad, though," she mused.

Hearing her door chime, she scrutinized her appearance one last time. Satisfied with what she saw, she went to let him in. She pushed the control panel, and the door slid open to reveal Jean-Luc clad in her favorite outfit, the graying hairs of his chest peeking through the vee of his shirt. She couldn't help but think how very sexy he looked.

His eyes traveled her form, clad in his favorite outfit, taking in the curve of her shoulder, her red hair as it fell in soft waves, the black skirt. He couldn't help but marvel at her natural beauty.

"Shall we?" He offered her his arm.

"Yes, let's," she replied, taking it.

He stole a glance at her.

"I must say, you look wonderful this evening. Did you do something different to your hair?"

"I washed it," she answered breezily, stepping into the turbolift. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile and he followed her in. Leaning over, he inhaled the scent of her strawberry tresses.

"So I can see," he murmured. "Well, whatever it is you're doing, continue. It looks lovely."

She turned to him. "Is that an order? I thought that Captain wasn't coming tonight."

He smiled, stepping closer to her. "He's not. It was merely a request from a man to a woman whom he's quite taken with."

Beverly's gaze faltered, glancing down at the floor below. Picard mentally kicked himself. He had overstepped the boundary … again. "Beverly, I'm sorry. I didn't mean –"

She cut him off, placing a finger over his lips, marveling at how soft they felt against her fingertip.

"Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm flattered. Truly, I am."

His eyes lit up. Bringing his hand to cover hers, he pressed a kiss to her palm. "I'm grateful to hear it." Amusement danced in his eyes. He released her hand, allowing it to fall back to her side as the turbolift came to a slow stop.

_To be continued …_


End file.
